


Can't Stop This Thing We Started

by Tess_Lucetram



Series: So Far So Good [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 06, Anal Sex, Angel Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dominant Castiel, Geek Sam Winchester, M/M, Mates, Oil glands, Porn, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Wing Oil, Winged Dean Winchester, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tess_Lucetram/pseuds/Tess_Lucetram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honeymoon porn timestamp</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Stop This Thing We Started

As the day wore on, the arguments surrounding the men wound down. Sam finally accepted the phrase, “Let me help you,” counted in their debate when Dean hijacked his laptop to find it in a Star Trek episode. All three other men in the room blushed when they realized that Dean had been saying he loved them for ages by constantly offering his help. Dean, of course, chose not to acknowledge them.

It was late afternoon when the debate actually ended. Bobby declared that he needed a beer and that all four of them were helpless when it came to emotions. None more so than Dean. Dean protested heartily that if any one of them was emotionally stunted, it had to be Cas, since he hadn’t really felt emotions until a few years ago. Cas refuted this, explaining that angels did feel emotions; they were simply different from human ones. Sam, the geek, tried to simplify it by equating human emotion and angelic emotion with different computer operating systems. Both worked, but weren’t always understood by users of another system. And learning a new system took time, but wasn’t impossible. Unless a person was like Dean and still operated with a pen and paper. Dean had simply rolled his eyes and announced that Cas was now officially his only family. Sam had laughed, but Cas had frowned and Dean had to explain that he was only kidding. He’d never deny Sam; not really.

“But seriously,” Sam finally asked. “Just how do angelic emotions differ from human ones?”

“Mostly in how they are expressed,” Castiel answered. “It was an adjustment for me to have to use my vessel to display them. I always felt them, but you couldn’t see it.”

“I’m still not sure I understand,” Sam replied, wrinkling his forehead in thought. “You don’t physically display emotions? How do angels communicate them then?”

“You are still thinking of angels as concrete entities, Sam,” Castiel tried to explain. “We are not physical beings, despite the vessels we take and the manifestations of our wings that humans can perceive. Our true wings are wavelengths of energy and we express our emotions as specific wave frequencies within them.”

“Wave frequencies in your wings? Really? So, could you actually graph your emotions, if you needed to?”

“Oh my God, Sam!” Dean exclaimed. “You did not really just ask that. And you had the nerve to call _me_ a dork?”

Castiel ignored his mate’s outburst as he focused on Sam’s interesting question. “I believe so, yes,” he finally said. “Though I’m not sure why I would ever need to do such a thing, except as a curiosity.”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. But it might be interesting to see if angelic emotions correspond with any known wave forms here on earth. For example, is angelic happiness the equivalent of some obscure math equation?”

“Everything can be boiled down to an equation,” Castiel said. “You just have to know enough advanced math.”

“Can we stop with the math talk, here?” Dean finally broke in. “It’s giving me a headache just thinking about it.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. “So, anyway, is there anything else angels use their wings for? I mean, flying and pseudo-body language aside?”

“Angels use their wings for almost everything,” Castiel told Sam. “They are an integral part of angelic culture in many ways. We show emotion through them, use them in battle as both sword and shield if need be, and we use them in our mating rituals as well. They are not simply forms of transportation. There is an entire subtle language to our wings. Some of it is subconscious, such as when we are displaying our power or warning another being away from our mates, but much of it is learned as well.” He glanced at Dean, to make sure his mate was comfortable with the way the conversation had turned.

Dean smiled and fanned his wings out provocatively to acknowledge the conversation. He knew Castiel appreciated the view. And both Sam and Bobby knew he was happily mated. They could kiss his ass, if they thought he was hiding it any more or feeling bad about it.

Castiel lost the thread of his conversation with Sam as his breath caught in his throat at the display. His own wings responded in kind, but more aggressively, coming up over his shoulders to spread out at head height. He quickly crossed the room to Dean’s side, eyes focused solely on Dean’s wings, which lowered submissively in an instinctual reaction to Castiel’s dominating pose.

Sam laughed. “Okay then. I guess if I could see your wings right now, that would have been a demonstration of your point.”

The couple ignored him, still caught in their own little world, staring into each other’s eyes. Sam smirked at the besotted looks on both of their faces. Dean and Cas staring at each other was par for the course in their little world, but it was nice to know that it was going somewhere now, even if Sam really didn’t want to think about exactly where. It was time he made himself scarce, just in case. He decided to see if Bobby had another beer in the fridge.

Sam’s departure went unnoticed by the two beings still locked in place by each other’s gazes. Castiel made the first move, reaching to touch Dean’s elbow and slowly sliding his hand up to his shoulder. His focus shifted from Dean’s eyes to the red mark he’d made there. Dean’s breathing got heavier as Castiel neared the scar, until he was almost panting. Cas glanced back up at his mate’s face one more time before he made contact with the hand print.

He was surprised when Dean shoved his hand away hastily as it trailed up his arm almost to the mating mark. Dean smirked and fluffed out his feathers as Cas squinted at him. He was going to run any second now. Cas could feel the buildup of emotions in both of them and relished the anticipation. Dean would not be able to deny him after this chase. Not with a proper nest built and his fear of intimacy between them finally waning. The night before had proved him eager enough in their shared space. Dean eyed him warily for a moment, preparing his wings to fly. Cas copied his stance, ready to follow his mate in an instant. Dean flapped his wings and vanished. Castiel followed him with alacrity, but found no trail of his mate through the ether. Dean had disappeared. How was that possible? Frantically, Cas brought himself back to Bobby’s living room. Dean wasn’t there either, but Cas caught a glance of him through the window. Cas growled. The little sneak had only flown inches away and rematerialized to _run_. Well, if that was how Dean was going to play this, Castiel would oblige him.

Dean snickered to himself as he ran around the corner of Bobby’s house. Pausing for a moment to evaluate his options, he noticed the big sign over Bobby’s main garage. It could probably hide him. He prepared to take off toward it when he saw Cas materialize just feet from him. Dean didn’t want to be caught yet, and he’d hoped his first trick would take more time for Cas to figure out. No such luck. The sign was obviously out now, since Cas would see him fly there. Dean cast about for another suitable hiding place, but found none in sight. His heart started to race. Panicking slightly, he took off on foot away from his mate. He heard Cas growl from behind him and felt his insides quiver. It wasn’t really fear, just like his panic wasn’t really panic so much as extreme anxiety. If he’d thought about it, Dean might have labeled it as anticipation, but he wasn’t paying that much attention. He did notice the tingling at the base of his wings though. It felt like he’d rubbed mentholated cream there.

Cas growled again from closer, and Dean instinctively took flight. He headed for a deserted part of the salvage yard, where even Bobby rarely went. He’d discovered the place as a teen when he needed an escape from his father. He landed unsteadily and looked around wildly. No Cas yet. Breathing hard, he bent at the waist, hands on his knees.

Castiel followed his mate at a moderate pace. He was enjoying this game immensely. When Dean finally flew away from him, he grinned victoriously at the sight. Dean was so beautiful when he spread his wings. Cas followed him easily through the ether, landing silently a few yards from his mate. He was unobserved, just as he’d hoped, and Dean… bent over. Castiel was on him in a flash.

As he was still catching his breath, Dean was unceremoniously knocked to the packed dirt beneath his feet. Years of hunter’s instincts kicked in and Dean immediately rolled away from his attacker. Or, at least he tried. Castiel had grabbed Dean around his middle and landed heavily on Dean’s back and wings. Before he could respond, Castiel grabbed his wrists tightly.

“Oof!” Dean grunted, struggling to free himself as Cas gamely hung on for the ride.

Castiel clung to his mate tightly. The dominant part of him reveled in this. He’d subdue his mate properly and then Dean would be worn out and compliant. Dean bucked and squirmed under him, attempting to get away. His lovely golden wings were thrashing around, rubbing against Castiel’s periodically. But they were also getting filthy in the dust. That wouldn’t do at all. So, after a particularly fierce buck from the angel under him accompanied by an even stronger flap of wings, Castiel pinned those tawny feathers to the ground with his own black ones.

Dean snarled at the pressure on his wings, his instincts telling him to fight until he couldn’t anymore. He didn’t know if that was angelic instincts or hunter ones though. It didn’t really matter, because for once both sides of him were in agreement. Dean felt Cas pin his legs from knee to ankle and grind his hips against Dean’s backside. He almost buckled then and there, going lax for a moment. Castiel nosed the back of his neck at his hairline. Dean huffed in the dirt, sending up a cloud of dust as Cas rumbled his pleasure at Dean’s seeming surrender.

Castiel remained wary as his mate relaxed underneath him. He knew better than to trust surrender from Dean, who’d fight to his last breath if necessary. But as Dean gasped into the ground, Castiel’s dominant instincts began to get the better of his rational mind. His mate wouldn’t put up _too_ much of a fight. After all, he wanted this as well. So, after a minute of stillness from Dean, Castiel eased up the pressure on his wings, just a bit. Still no reaction. Castiel shifted his hips again, testing Dean’s receptiveness. Dean whimpered and tensed his thighs, trying to thrust back. Dean was ready. Cas pulled his wings back completely, raising them to a dominant pose above his back. Dean’s lay quietly on the ground, ruffling occasionally with the shudders wracking Dean’s body. Slowly, Cas slid his hands from Dean’s wrists up his arms to Dean’s shoulders and wings. He lingered at Dean’s mating mark for only a moment, earning him a stronger buck. He caressed the scapular feathers of Dean’s wings softly, simply taking in their beauty. He sat up, shifting most of his weight off of his subdued mate. Dean still breathed heavily; his eyes were pinched shut.

Dean knew Castiel thought he’d won the chase. But he was only biding his time. He couldn’t honestly say he didn’t want this to happen, but Dean also wanted Cas to realize that this wouldn’t be easy. He waited until Cas shifted to make his move. Pulling his arms quickly under his torso, he heaved up with all his strength. Cas went tumbling back and Dean jumped up.

“Sucker!” he shouted, and flew toward the house.

Castiel growled and banged his fist on the ground. Stupid! He should have known better, dominant instincts be damned. He leaped after his mate more quickly this time. Dean wouldn’t escape again. Castiel would pin him down and tickle the downy feathers close to his oil glands mercilessly until Dean begged Cas for relief. Castiel landed hard, quickly taking stock of the situation he found himself in. Dean had gone to the panic room, anticipating that Castiel would follow him. Bobby kept spare weapons in there, including an angel blade, which Dean had grabbed and was wielding competently.

It was Dean’s turn to snarl when Castiel landed in the panic room and summoned his own blade. Dean almost gulped and gave in right there when Castiel leveled his I’ll-smite-you-squint at him.

“You think you can best me, Dean?” Castiel rumbled with a smirk, spinning his blade around.

Dean didn’t respond, except to charge at Castiel. He feinted left, hoping to trick his mate, but Castiel didn’t fall for it. A small hole appeared in Dean’s shirt, but not a scratch marred his body. Castiel’s version of counting coup. Dean gritted his teeth at the smirk still gracing his mate’s lips and charged again. Castiel met him strike for strike, adding numerous slashes to Dean’s clothing in the meantime. Dean had yet to hit his opponent; not even once. But Dean’s clothes were ribbons by this point, only clothing in the loosest sense. He was getting more and more frustrated and took more and more chances. Finally, Dean lunged, over extending himself and Cas caught his arm. He spun Dean back against his body and disarmed him with barely a flicker of movement. Dean knew from the start that he was seriously out-classed, but damn! He slumped against Cas for real this time, as Castiel’s blade danced over his throat.

“Yield to me,” Cas rasped out. “I want to hear you say it.”

Dean swallowed. His pride was taking a serious beating here. “C’mon Cas,” he whined, leaning his head back on Castiel’s shoulder. “You know you won.”

Castiel’s sword didn’t waver as he leaned his nose into Dean’s throat. He kissed Dean’s racing pulse once before whispering in Dean’s ear.

“You chose this challenge, my lovely mate. I want you to say you submit to me. Yield, Dean, and you’ll get what we both want.”

He punctuated his demand with a thrust against Dean’s ass. Dean moaned, low in his throat, losing his train of thought, until Castiel tightened his grip and snarled.

“Now, Dean. Before I lose patience and take you here,” Castiel hissed, nipping Dean’s ear

Dean’s angelic instincts were urging him to concede the battle. Castiel had proven himself a worthy dominant mate, but his human instincts were still willing him to fight. Torn, all Dean could do was whimper softly and try to brush Castiel’s wings with his own. Castiel softened minutely, banishing his blade and shifting his grip to Dean’s hair.

“Oh, Dean. Always the hard way,” he whispered, before flying them both to their nest.

They landed in Bobby’s spare room. More specifically, they landed on the bed Dean had turned into their nest in Bobby’s spare room. Their positions hadn’t changed much, except Dean was now face down on the bed with Castiel’s full weight pinning him in place. He felt Cas delicately lick around the shell of his ear and shivered. Dean’s heart was pounding for multiple reasons. The chase, the fight, Castiel’s demand, the flight; pick one and Dean would cop to it.

“Are you ready to submit to me, Dean?” Castiel asked in his deepest tone. “Are you ready to yield and surrender yourself to me in our nest? I know you want to, Dean. It’s okay. Let go.”

“Caaaasss…” Dean groaned, burying his flaming red face in the comforter.

Castiel began inching his fingers under Dean’s wings. He could smell the copious amount of wing oil Dean was producing. He knew Dean had to be feeling the full effect of such extreme arousal, but still he resisted; stubborn and contrary as always. Dean was panting underneath him, unconsciously thrusting back into the hardness of Castiel’s groin. Dean needed to be mounted and Castiel wanted that very much as well. The older angel’s hands finished their journey, tweaking the small, dripping nubs gently. Dean went wild underneath him, thrashing around senselessly; not trying to get away, just jumping like he’d been hit with an electric shock.

Dean whined into the blankets as Castiel continued to press into him. He hadn’t known his oil glands were so sensitive. Cas had skirted around them before, but now he was taking full advantage. And Dean was having trouble keeping quiet. He didn’t want to verbally surrender to Castiel. As a matter of pride, that was the one thing he wanted to keep for himself. But if Castiel kept up those teasing touches and tiny pinches to his oil glands, he wasn’t sure how long he could hold out. So he bit his bottom lip until it was swollen and then until he thought it would bleed. Finally, the touches slowed and Dean felt like he could breathe again.

Castiel eased away from Dean’s sensitive glands, aware that Dean was intentionally muffling himself. He sat back a moment, still caressing Dean’s feathers and drawing small noises from his mate, to ponder his next move. He was just as determined to get Dean’s full submission as Dean was not to say it. An idea sprang up and Castiel grinned.

“Dean,” he crooned, “come on, now. Don’t you want me to take care of you? Because I will. I’ll take such good care of you, Dean. You’ll never want for anything again. I’ll give you anything and everything for just two little words.”

Dean clenched his eyes and his teeth against Castiel’s words, which were rattling around in his head like some demented kid was shaking a can full of marbles. On one side, the angel part of him was ready to roll over and wave the white flag. But the other, the scared human part of him, whispered that there was no going back once he jumped off that ledge. If he wholly submitted to Castiel now, he was completely bound forever. And he’d have no recourse when Castiel inevitably left him, just like everyone else ever had. He was so wrapped up in his own head that he missed Castiel beginning to strip them both.

Castiel paused his whispering in Dean’s ear when he suddenly realized they were both still fully clothed. He decided to use his Grace to strip them, but slowly. One piece at a time, he banished their barriers until both were completely nude. He flattened himself against Dean’s back again, grinding down on his mate lightly. He hissed at the unfettered friction between them and felt Dean gasp.

“Cas,” Dean panted, rolling his hips. “Cas, please…”

“What would you like, Dean?” Castiel asked, rutting against his mate teasingly.

Dean only groaned and tried to draw his knees up; to get Castiel in a better position.

“Do you have something to say to me, Beloved?” Castiel prodded again, holding Dean in place, even though he was unconsciously trying to present himself. Castiel didn’t know if his self-control could withstand the temptation of Dean instinctually presenting. And he still wanted Dean’s verbal surrender before they moved on to the main event. His next thrust was between Dean’s cheeks and down behind his balls, just ghosting over his hole.

Dean squealed at the new and very pleasurable friction. Castiel did it again and Dean’s resolve crumbled. He’d have to trust that Cas wouldn’t ever leave him.

“I yield! I yield!” he squeaked out. “Cas! Cas, I need you! Please!”

Castiel’s dominant instincts made him want to roar in victory. His beautiful, strong, frustrating mate had finally submitted and was now begging for his attentions. He just managed to curb his instincts and only growled a little, even if the lights _did_ flicker a bit. Castiel forced himself away from Dean’s back, earning him a sobbed moan of denial from the younger angel.

“Shhh,” Castiel comforted him, helping to arrange Dean’s limbs until he was properly presented. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean shivered and quaked in his new position. Castiel had maneuvered him onto his knees and elbows, so his ass was raised high in the air, head down in the pillows. His knees were spread as far as they would go and his bowed legs only left him that much more exposed. Dean’s wings were pushed forward, blanketing his head and arms, and leaving his oil glands fully exposed. He could feel the oil dripping down his sides. It added to the shudders wracking his frame. And Castiel had stopped touching him. He squirmed around as much as he could without breaking his pose. He curled his toes and ruffled his feathers in impatience and anticipation. Cas stared for so long that Dean jumped when he felt his mate move on the bed.

Castiel was reveling in the beauty of his mate, watching the anticipation build in him. When Dean began fidgeting almost uncontrollably, he knew it was finally time. He slid into place between Dean’s legs and Dean flinched badly. Castiel ran a soothing hand down the back of Dean’s thigh as he shuffled closer. Dean’s breaths were hitching from nerves. Castiel continued to pet Dean’s inner thigh, inching up slowly to where he truly wanted to be. His other hand dragged through the viscous oil now fragrantly decorating Dean’s flanks and dripping onto the comforter. The excess production was stimulating Castiel’s oil glands now. He could feel the tell-tale tingling sensation and smell the musky notes that contrasted with Dean’s sweetness.

Dean thought he might go crazy from the near glacial pace. He’d been prepared for a quick slam in the sheets, but Cas was drawing the whole thing out. Proving to both of them that Dean had submitted; he wasn’t going anywhere, so there was no need to rush. Except Dean had never been more aroused in his whole life. His cock throbbed and twitched, dripping on the blankets in addition to his oil glands. And Cas had barely touched him. Dean whined when Castiel’s questing hand finally found the junction of his thighs, but switched directions before getting to Dean’s rim. The angel brushed down under the sensitive crease of Dean’s thigh and butt-cheek, making Dean shiver again. What was he waiting for?

“C’s, c’mon,” Dean slurred. “W’nt you. C’mon.” Dean bucked his hips to punctuate his plea. He smelled something earthy and delicious and licked his lips unconsciously. He rolled his head to look back at Cas. The angel was wearing a small smile and sporting the biggest erection Dean had ever seen. But he still seemed content to pet Dean into insanity. This was torture. Dean had to do something to speed up the pace.

Castiel could tell that Dean was almost at the breaking point. But he was enjoying himself immensely. The sight, smell, and sound of Dean all spread out for him made him want to savor this first time. When Dean turned to look at him, there was a familiar fire in his eyes. Castiel wondered what he could be planning while he was so open and vulnerable.

After a few more minutes of teasing touches, during which Castiel had finally deigned to actually start prepping him – spreading Dean’s own oil over and around his twitching hole – Dean had had enough.

“Do you just not know what to do?” Dean finally asked, striving to make his voice come out even. He wasn’t quite sure he managed, sounding breathy to his own ears. “Do you need some pointers?” he continued. “After all, only one of us was a billion-year-old virgin until recently…”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at his mate’s baiting words and tone. He knew Dean was intentionally provoking him, but the knowledge didn’t stop him from rising to the challenge. Castiel snarled and thrust his fingertip into Dean, who cut off abruptly with a squeal. Dean was tight and hot. Castiel wiggled his finger for a moment, twisting to spread the oil he’d collected. As Dean’s muscles relaxed, Castiel was able to get deeper and deeper until he was easily plunging his index finger in and out of Dean’s pliant body.

Dean only realized he was rocking back and forth on Castiel’s finger when the angel added another. The increased width was enough to startle him out of autopilot, especially when Cas finally found his prostate. Dean would forever deny the noise that came out of his mouth, which was part squeal and part shriek. No chance everyone in the house hadn’t heard it. But Dean couldn’t be bothered to care just then. He jerked, unsure if he wanted more or less sensation. Behind him Castiel growled and sped up his thrusts. Dean thought he might burst until Cas slowed again and added another finger. The stretch burned a bit this time and he whined in discomfort.

Castiel was almost overwhelmed at the feelings being inside Dean’s body engendered in him. Even just his fingers was amazing. His mate was panting and moaning, meeting every thrust with a buck of his hips. When Dean whined out at the third finger, Cas leaned in over him to kiss his back in between his wings, continuing to thrust in and out. When Dean had finally gotten used to the stretch and was again moaning for more, Castiel finally pulled out. A small sob escaped his mate but Castiel shushed him softly, mumbling reassurances.

“I’m right here, Dean. It’s okay. I love you more than the world. You’re so beautiful.” On and on as he gathered more oil to slick up his aching cock. Teasing Dean had also been teasing himself and by the time he lined up with Dean’s well-prepped hole, Castiel was almost desperate. With a last, “I love you,” Castiel pushed himself into Dean’s body.

Dean’s brain flat-lined the instant Castiel’s cock touched his ass, and his body once more was functioning on autopilot. Cas was big; long and thick and hot. Dean was well slicked, so there was minimal pain but he definitely felt the stretch. Castiel moved in shallow strokes for the first few moments, driving Dean crazy with the sensation of wanting _more_. He tried to thrust back to meet Castiel’s next movement, but Cas grabbed his hips hard enough to bruise and held him still. The angel continued to fill Dean up slowly and incrementally, groaning along with Dean’s cries. Finally, Castiel’s hips rested on Dean’s ass cheeks and he froze. His hands were still clamped on Dean’s hips so Dean couldn’t help himself either.

Dean continued to shiver as Castiel’s hands finally moved up his body. They trailed up his sides, through the mess of oil again, but didn’t touch his glands. Dean was glad of that. He was so sensitive right now, he didn’t think he could handle it. But Castiel did explore his feathers and card his oily hands through them while grinding his hips in tiny circles. Dean arched at the feeling and Castiel plastered himself to Dean’s back, forcing him to hold both of their weights. Like this, there was no way for Dean to move. He was locked in place under Castiel, unable to do more than weakly clench his inner walls. His dick was hanging so hard and heavy underneath him, not quite brushing the bed, and oozing a steady stream of precome, but Dean couldn’t move his arms to reach for it.

Castiel knew he was driving his mate crazy. He was enjoying it. The sensation of Dean’s body rippling along his length as he ground down on Dean’s prostate was exquisite, as were Dean’s breathy gasps and moans. Laying flush to Dean’s sweating, heaving back, Castiel was able to lace his fingers through Dean’s, further pinning him in place. He placed deliberate kisses along Dean’s neck and spine before leaning away again.

“Are you ready, Dean?” he asked softly, still circling his cock. Dean made an unintelligible sound, which Castiel took as consent and finally drew back to thrust properly into his mate. Dean cried out so prettily that Castiel had to do it again. It resulted in the same noise, and soon Dean was singing for him as Castiel pounded away at his insides. It felt too good to last, but also like he wanted to stay in this moment forever. Finally, Dean screamed as Castiel pounded particularly hard on his prostate and came untouched in long spurts over the covers. The sudden clench prompted Castiel to follow him into that abyss of pleasure. He released his Grace at the same time to mingle with Dean’s and knew no more, as blackness engulfed him.

Dean woke with a start in pitch black, sweating heavily and still pinned. Blinking several times, it took him a moment to realize that something was rhythmically ruffling the scapular feathers of his right wing. He shifted as much as he could, to try and figure out what was tickling him. When he lifted an arm to awkwardly pat around, he discovered Castiel’s mop of hair. He realized that Cas had passed out on top of him and was likely breathing on him. Probably the reason it was dark and he was sweaty too. Looking around, Dean further realized that they were both cocooned in Castiel’s dark wings. Dean groaned groggily.

“Cas,” he croaked, starting to wiggle around. “Dude, you’re smothering me.”

Cas grunted in response and buried his face in the valley of Dean’s spine, right between his wings. And hello, new happy spot. Dean shuddered at the sensation, still floating in a cloud of post-coital bliss.

“Cas,” he tried again, louder this time. “Seriously man, you’re squishing me.”

Castiel was certain he had died again. The blackness enfolding him seemed to have no end. But at least it was warm and smelled like Dean this time. He burrowed down into the awesome scent, vaguely aware that someone was trying to talk to him. But wait. If he was dead, who was speaking?

“…you’ve got to get up. Seriously, I’m getting worried now.”

Dean’s voice penetrated his foggy mind, snapping him awake. Dean was trying his best to shove at him while Castiel unintentionally still pinned him in place. Groaning, he folded his wings back to let in some air and light. Then he flopped over on his side ungracefully. Dean sighed in relief and rolled over to face him. Castiel blinked at him stupidly, awake but still lost in pleasure. He reached out to touch Dean’s face and Dean smiled, pressing Cas’ palm to his cheek.

“Hey,” Dean said softly. “You okay over there?”

Castiel blinked again, considering. He was cuddled up to his mate after an intense round of love-making. He was sore and sticky in the best ways, and in love with the being currently facing him. He wasn’t sure okay covered it, but nodded anyway. Dean laughed softly, and Castiel’s heart swelled with love at the sound.

“Close your eyes and rest, Cas,” Dean gently commanded. “You’re obviously still in no shape to be awake.”

Castiel smiled and nodded again, following his mate’s order. Dean would know best. He drifted back into the semi-sleep of angels, content that Dean would look after them until he was functioning properly again. He couldn’t wait to do that again.

Dean smiled at his mate and ruffled his hair. He tugged him closer and tucked Cas into his body. Dean leaned his chin into Cas’ bed head and wrapped a wing around him protectively, happy to wait until Cas was firing on all cylinders again. Then he wanted round two.


End file.
